Rooster Run
by some random gal
Summary: Not the most inventive title, I know. the whole of Chicken Run, through Rocky's eyes. His thoughts and feelings.
1. Chapter 1

Hiya! Some Random Gal, back from retirement and posting again. Man I missed you all. Anyway, to business.

I love Rocky. I love his personality and the way he talks. He makes me laugh a lotXD. I always dreamed of making a story of his time in his point of view. So, I achieved it. Now, I know that the title isn't very inspirational and the story might not be that great, but I think I did a good job. I also added a few scenes that aren't in the movie. Anyway, enjoy Rooster Run.

Rooster Run

Chapter 1

All stories begin with introduction don't they? Well, let's have one right now then. The name's Rocky Rhodes, short for the Rhode Island Red. I am a rooster, and a pretty good-looking one at that. Through my good looks, _most_ chicks fall for my charms and stuff gets done for me. Now you all are thinking that someone as good looking as me may live a charmed life, but there is one little catch. I have a job, and I don't like it. Do you want to know what I do for a living? No? Well, I'll tell you anyway. I am a rooster who is from the circus and when I get on stage, I get shot out of a _cannon_. You heard me right, _shot out of a cannon._ And no, they do not gear my up with any safety or anything. They just stuff me in, light that fuse, and _boom!_ There I go in a puff of black smoke and the smell of gunpowder. That's me, Rocky the "Flying Rooster". Yeah, my life isn't as good as I look isn't it? No it's not. Which is a shame because a handsome rooster like me deserves a better life after all I've gone through. Well, it's about time I do get that life, a higher place than the one I am living in right now. I don't care that the other circus guys think I'm nuts.

'You've got to be kidding Rocky!' They say to me. 'We get a roof over our head and fed three meals a day. I don't get why you want to leave. Or how even. You do see how well guarded this place is right?' Well, all they do is jump through rings of fire and stand on each other's heads. If they were stuffed into a cannon and shot into the air with no safety gear, I'm pretty sure their opinions would change. As for the how, this is the one time I am glad that my job is being shot out of a cannon. The next time I go on stage, they are going to get an explosion they'll never forget.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiya everyone~ OMG an update! XD Just kidding. I've actually written this a loooooong time ago but wanted to wait a bit to see if anyone ACTUALLY reads this^^. Thank you soooooo much A. Kingsleigh. You're review made me smile. And yes, I agree, the lack of Chicken Run fics is . aggravating. So I was like "Well! I'm gonna post a fic!" ^^ Ayway~ Enjoy Rooster Run Chapter 2. I own nothing.

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><p>Rooster Run<p>

Chapter 2

Our next show was in the country side. Good, that means that there would be no need for me to worry about running into some one when I make my escape. Now, it is stereo typical that good looking people are meant to be stupid. That is entirely NOT true. Using my intelligence, I concocted an ingenious plan. I packed all my stuff in my bag; my cloak, some food, and a poster of myself to remind me of the glory of escaping this life. Most importantly, I packed one of the knives I pinched from the men while they were eating dinner. I hide the bag inside the cannon so that I can grab it at my last performance. When the time comes, I am going to take out the knife and when I shoot out of the cannon and fly towards the silk circus tent roof, I was going to slash a nice big hole in it and then continue to fly out of here, and out into freedom. All I have to do now is wait until night when I go one stage...for the last time.

Finally. It's here. My last performance. It takes a lot of effort not to show my plan on my face. Well, the humans didn't notice, but the animals did.

'What are you grinning about?' They asked.

'Grinning? I'm not grinning. This is just the face I have to put on when I go out into the stage.' I reply, the smile probably still on my face. This would be the last time I will be stuffed into a cannon, the last time I will be shot out with the scent of gunpowder, the last time I will be slam into the circus tent walls. It's bad for my face. Oh! It's my act they are announcing.

I go out. I smile and wave. Then I am picked up by the neck and stuffed into the cannon. They take aim roughly at the spot where I cut out the hole. I take out my cloak and tie it around my neck and the knife and clutch it tightly in one wing. I am almost there. I can hear the fuse being lit. I imagine it making its way down. I sling the bag over my shoulders. Any second now. In three...two...one..._BOOM! _For once, the explosion sounds like music. I soar out from the cannon. I zoom upwards. I am about to collide with the tent and then..._rip!_ I slash a hole in the tent roof and, as I calculated, continue to fly out. I drop the knife and spread out my wings, loving the feel of the air beating against them, and I can't help it. I scream.

'_Freedoooooom!' _I cry out. I can just imagine the circus getting smaller and smaller as I get further and further away from that life. While I was escaping the hell that I was living in, I flew over a farm. I looked down and noticed someone standing outside, looking at me. It was a chicken. The chicken was a ginger colour and I saw that she was wearing a green hat. She laughed up to me. I smiled my charming smile and waved. Then the next thing I know, I bump into something. I am spinning five 360s, before being flung out to be slingshot-ed by some power wires. I plummet back to the ground and slide through a tub of chicken feed. I hit my head hard and then flung into a somersault. Me being graceful, I landed on my feet, right in front of the ginger chicken. I spread my arms out like I do in the circus. 'Thank you ladies and gentlemen. You've been a wonderful audience.' Well, I wasn't suppose to say that now that I escaped the circus. I guess old habits are hard to get rid of. Then, I black out. Yep, just like that. I heard a "bang" and then my world went black. All I remember are the ginger chicken's sharp green eyes staring worriedly behind me. They were a really pretty green.


	3. Chapter 3

O~K~. I originally wanted toleave it with chapter 2 and see if any one other than you, dear A. Kingsleigh, would start reading this, but I thought the last chapter was rather dull and to leave it with just that would've been a let down. So i decided to upload another chappie. I own nothing. I don't own the characters, and I don't own teh plot, just a few made up scenes which will come up later on in teh story *wink wink^^*. Enjoy.

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><p>Rooster Run<p>

Chapter 3

Oh no... I am back at the circus. How? When? Did my escape fail? Or was my escape just a dream? Oh no...They are stuffing me into the cannon again. Not in the dark. No. Not in there. Gotta get out. There's a light forming in front of me. Good. I gotta get...

I wake up in a dimly lit room, lying in a bunk. Where...? I sit up slightly, my head spinning. I turned and looked across the room. Only to not see the room. I see a flood of chickens staring at me. I gasp and bolt up, backing into the wall behind me. Was I captured and placed into a chicken circus?

'Who are you? Where am I? What's going-ow!' I cry out as a sharp pain goes though my left wing. I look at it to see that it was wrapped up in a bandage. 'What happened to my wing?' I ask, looking at them. One of them steps forward. I recognise her. She's the ginger chicken with the green eyes and hat.

'You took a rather nasty fall.' She said. Her voice was polite, but it had a determined edge to it. A white chicken with large glasses popped up behind her shoulder saying something, but her accent was strange and her speech was really fast.

'Was that English?' I ask

'She said you sprained you wing.' The ginger chicken answers. So that's what she said. 'But she fixed it.' Fixed it?

'I made the bandage.' Said the high voice of a cream-coloured chicken with blue hair.

'And I carried you in!' added the deep voice of a large red chick. The next thing that I hear are the other voices crying out together as the flood begins to move in on me. Sometimes being handsome is a curse.

'Woah woah woah!' I say, putting my hands out. 'Let's back up and start from the top. Where am I?' The ginger chicken speaks up again.

'You're right. I'm sorry. We're just very exci-This is a chicken farm.'

'And we're the chickens.' Adds the cream coloured chicken giving me a playful wink. All I could do was stare.

'...Yeah. I'm with you so far. Chicken farm. Chickens.' I say, repeating the new-found information I just gained. Suddenly, an old rooster stuffed his face into mine, glaring at me.

'I don't like the look of this one.' He said. Wow. I feel loved. 'His eyes are too close together.' What's that got to do with it? 'And he's a yank.' He says, jabbing me at the scarf I wore with a rod he was holding, despite the ginger chicken's pleas to lay off. I gently push the rod away.

'Easy pops.' I say. 'Cock fighting is illegal where I come from.'

'And where is that exactly?' Asks the big red chicken.

'Oh, just a little place I call the land of the free.' Definitely. 'The home of the brave.'

'Scotland!' The glasses chicken says. Wow. One word I actually understand.

'No!' I say. 'America.' Although I don't remember my time there, I'm pretty sure that's where I came from. Everyone "ohh-ed" and "ahh-ed". The old rooster, however, seem to get even angrier.

'Poppycock!' He exclaimed. 'Pushy Americans. Always showing up late for every war.' War? He began to walk out of the door. 'Overpaid, oversexed, and over here.' he said before shutting the door behind him.

'Hey, what's eating grandpa?' I ask, feeling slightly offended. What did I ever do to him? I just got here. The ginger chicken looked at me apologetically.

'I'm sorry about him, mister-Mister?' She asks. Oh yeah, I love introductions. I stand up glad to find that my feet aren't broken and that the white chicken didn't "fix" them too.

'The name's Rocky.' I say, patting her on the shoulder. 'Rocky the Rhode Island Red, Rhodes for short.'

'Rocky Rhodes?' Asks a dark brown chicken, offering me a glass of water. Good, I need a drink.

'Catchy, ain't it?' I reply, taking the glass. And the name sounds good like me too.

'Um... Mister Rhodes? Is this you?' Asks the ginger chicken suddenly. She was holding something up at me. I took a glance and saw that it was a poster of me. I instantly felt wary. Why does she have that? Did she go through my stuff?

'Uh…who wants to know?' I ask evasively.

'A couple of desperate chickens.' She replies, and a crowd of chickens surround her, smiling at me. 'Because if it is you, you might just be the answer to all out prayers.' All suspicion melted away. Rocky Rhodes, the answer to a flock of chicken's prayers. I like the sound of that. I stare at the many chickens smiling at me. Oh, why not? It is me after all, so I'm not lying.

'Well then, call me a miracle dollface.' I say. 'Cause that's me.' Instantly, everyone goes into a small applause as they "ohh" and "ahh" at me again.

'And what brings you to England, Mr Rhodes?' A chicken asks.

'Why, all the beautiful English chicks, of course.' I say, smiling my charming smile at everyone. Some swoon. Oh yeah, I'm good.

'Give over!' Says the big red chicken as she smacks me on the back. I drop my cup, but oh well. Time to spice it up.

'You see I'm a traveller by nature.' I tell everyone, walking through the crowd. 'I did that whole barnyard thing, but I didn't really get into it.' I wink at a nearby chicken and she faints. 'Nope.' I put my hands up into the air. 'The open road, that's more my style.' Totally. 'Just give me a pack on my back, and point me where the wind blows.' I turn back to everyone. They all look excited. Time for the climax. 'In fact, you know what they call me back home? You're gonna love this. The Lone Free Ranger.' Yeah, I'm free now. And nothing will make me go back. The ginger chicken now stands in front of me saying something to everyone, but I can't hear her. Maybe I can settle here for a while. All this chickens fall easily for my charm, and I need a bit of pampering after what I've been through. Then the one word I hear the ginger chicken say makes me stop in my tracks.

'What?' I stammer. 'Did you say…fly?' This I was not expecting.

'You can teach us.' She says, spreading her hands out to everyone. Oh no. She wants me to teach everyone? Change of plan, time for me to hit the road. I mean, the circus could be after me right now. I can't stay here when they come this way.

'No I can't.' I answer and everyone slumps. 'Shh. You hear that?' I say, getting close to the ginger chicken's face. Everyone goes silent, trying to hear something only I can here; the explosion of the cannon. Nope, not going back. 'That's the open road calling me name and I was born to answer that call.' I grab my bag which was hanging from a hook near the door. Thankfully, it looked untouched. The chickens can keep my poster. 'Bye.' I zoom out of the room. Outside I look around. The chicken farm had a wire fence around it. I detected some tough looking black dogs in the shadows, but they were asleep. The farmer was also inside by the looks of the light in the window. Escape would be easy. I heard the door open and someone come out.

'Mr Rhodes?' I heard a familiar voice say. The ginger chicken again. I began to walk off and I could hear her following me. 'Um, perhaps I didn't explain our situation properly.' She was saying. 'We lay eggs day in and day out.' That was obvious. 'And when we can't lay any more, they kill us.' No. Really? I pity you. I turn around, walking backwards.

'Hey, it's a cruel world dollface.' I say, turning back around as I go round a corner. Very cruel. 'Might as well get used to it.' She cuts in front of me.

'Which part of "they kill us" do you not understand?'

'Hey.' I say putting my hand up. 'I've got my own set of problems to worry about. Besides, this bird cage can't be that hard to bust out.' I say, indicating the fence to prove my point. 'In fact, watch me.' I start walking away again, turning around another corner.

'It isn't so hard to get one chicken out, or even two.' She says. Then why are you still pestering me? 'But this is about all of us.' Ok! Stop. I turn around. Did I hear her correctly?

'All of you?' I repeat. She can't be serious.

'That's what I've been trying to tell you.' Oh, she is.

'Wait a minute, let me get this straight.' I say, walking towards her. 'You want to get every chicken in this place out of here AT THE SAME TIME?'

'Of course.' I look back to the hut I woke up in. It had a lot of chickens inside it. I then look to the other huts. You don't need to be a genius to know that all of these huts together equal A LOT of chickens. She must be crazy!

'You're certifiable! You can't pull off a stunt like that. That's suicide.'

'Where there is a will, there's a way.' That's her argument? Yep, she's crazy. I'm so not staying here now.

'Couldn't agree more.' I say, turning around again. 'And I WILL be leaving. That way.' I begin to walk to walk towards the fence, ignore her pleas. Just a few steps to freedom. Two lights emerge from around the corner. I heard the hum of an engine. I gasp as a cold feeling spreads through my body. They've found me! I turn and run back, past the ginger chicken and behind a nearby hut. I must have been out for a while. I didn't expect for them to find me this quickly.

'So that's it.' I hear the ginger chicken say. Oh no! 'You're from the circus.' I shush her and drag her behind the hut too. I can't be caught!

'Do you want to keep it down? I'm trying to lay low here.' I turn back to the circus master. He is knocking on the door of the farmers. Oh no! Now I'll have the circus master AND the farmers looking for me. As if this night can't get any worse.

'I should turn you in right now.' The ginger chicken says.

'You wouldn't.' I say confidently, then doubt wormed its way in. 'Would you?'

'Give me one reason why I shouldn't?' She replied, placing her wings on her hips.

'Because I'm…cute?' I offered, flashing a charming smile. She stares at me for a moment and I thought I got her. Then she started squawking for her life. What the hell? I quickly clamp my wing over her mouth. 'Hey hey hey! What kind of crazy chick are you? Do you know what would happen if he finds me?'

'It's a cruel world.' Was all she said when I took my wing back. I can't believe she turned my words against me.

'I just decided. I don't like you.' I say.

'I just decided. I don't care.' My surprise was small, but there. She doesn't care? That's a first for me. 'Now show us how to fly.' She's still on about that?

'With this wing?' I say, looking for an excuse.

'Teach us then!'

'No!' As soon as I say this, she starts squawking again. I quickly made shut her up with my wing. 'Now you listen here sister.' I say desperately, removing my wing again. 'I'm not going back to that life.' Please no. 'I'm a lone free ranger. Emphasis on free!'

'And that's what we want. Freedom!' I turned back to the circus master and I see him with the farmers. The farmers are carrying a torch. I gasp again. 'Fancy that. They're coming this way.' She says, seemingly teasing me. I panicked.

'Oh no! Oh no, they're onto me.'

'Teach us how to fly and we'll hide you.' The ginger says.

'And if I don't?' She takes a deep breath but I'm prepared for it this time. I clamp her beak just as a squawk went past. 'Was your father, by any chance, a vulture?' She brushes my wing away and offers hers.

'Do we have a deal?' I stare at her wing, glanced at the farmers, then back at her wing. How is it that this obviously smart and persuasive chick did not know the truth? I can't fly! But I could tell that if I tell her this, she'd turn me in no time flat. I figured it out now. If I wanted that freedom, I'd have no choice but to take the deal or it's back in the cannon I go. With a reluctant sigh, I offer her my wing, and she takes it and drags me somewhere. Oh god. What have I done to deserve this? And what have I gotten myself into?


	4. Chapter 4

Hello you all you existant and non-existant readers! Some Random Gal has returned with another chapter of Rooster Run! A. Kingsleigh, I love you. So. Much! I just love getting your reviews and reading them^^ You make me feel so happy~ I understand your aggravation at how Chicken Run doesn't get many new fics, but when I thought about it more, I realised it's beause Chicken Run is so perfect it's hard to many a fic about it^^ Anyway~ enough babble! Time to move on and start reading!^^ I own nothing!

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><p>Rooster Run<p>

Chapter 4

The ginger chicken drags me across the pen, narrowly missing the torch beam, and behind another hut. I peek out to see a tall, thin female farmer with the torch. She swings it around and nearly sees me. I duck back behind the hut.

'Time to make good of that deal, doll-' Her wing clamps my beak for a change.

'The name is Ginger.' I rub my beak. Her name is Ginger? Fitting. She knocks on the wall of the hut, and it opens! Two wings grab us and pull us in. I couldn't help but shout. Opps. Before the farmer could open the roof and find me, I was stuffed into a small box without a single word. It wasn't very comfortable. But I guess the farmers would never find me. I had to admit, the chicks knew what they were doing, but still… Suddenly, the lid opened. Ginger stood over me. 'Comfortable?' she asked sarcastically.

'Not really.' I replied. My back is starting to hurt.

'Maybe this will help.' She got out a kind of footrest and used it to scoop me out.

'Nice hide out.' I say sarcastically back, grabbing my wing as a stab of pain went through it. 'I had more room in my egg.'

'We held up our end of the deal, tomorrow, you hold up yours.'

'What deal?'

'The flying!' Ugh, don't remind me.

'Yeah yeah yeah. Right right right. Don't worry, I'll teach you everything I know.' I get out of the box and rub my wings together. 'Now, which bunk is mine?' Everyone started offering their bunks to me. I'll be looking forward to this. But then I felt Ginger yank my scarf back.

'Oh no, you don't. Come with me.' She dragged me out of the hut and over to another marked "1".

'Hey! Gentle. What's wrong with me sharing a bunk with them?'

'With what I know about you so far, I don't trust you with them.'

'So where am I sleeping then?' Ginger doesn't reply but knocks on the door. It opens and behind it…is Pops. 'Oh no.' I instantly say. Pops stares at us curiously, more glaring at me. Ginger starts talking to Pops about me bunking with him. I turn slowly and try to sneak into another hut, but Ginger catches me again by the scarf.

'You either bunk with Fowler, or sleep outside where the farmers could find you.' She says firmly. 'Unless you can suggest somewhere else to sleep.' You can't be serious. With Pops? It's almost as bad as the cannon. I stare at Ginger and decide to mess with her a little.

'How about your bunk?' She stares at me with a quizzical look, then shock and disbelief registered on her face.

'What?' Oh, this is funny.

'Well, you say you can't trust me with other chicks, but I'm sure you can trust me if I bunk with you, besides,' I lean in close and give her a playful wink. 'I would like to get to know you better.' Her beak dropped open and she starts making a weird sound. I wish I had a camera. A pretty blush covered her face that was so deep I could even see it on her ginger feathers and she grabs my good shoulder, thrusts me into Pop's hut, then closes the door without a backwards glance.

I let out a snicker. That was fun. However, no matter how fun it was, I still ended up with Pops, him continuously saying how outrageous it was that I had to share with him, and he quickly dulled my mood. Eventually, however, he fell asleep. I snuck out of bed and went into my backpack. Everything looked untouched. How did they get the poster?

I then saw it; a little piece of folded paper at the bottom of my bag. I take it and open it. It was the half that showed the cannon. The poster must've fell out of my backpack after I fell, but this piece ripped off. That was why everyone thought I could fly. It all makes sense now.

I put the bottom part of the poster deep at the bottom of my bag. Oh well. It doesn't cause much trouble. I'll use them for protection and teach them what the circus taught me. Then, after they catch on and I have my fun, I'll just high-tail it out of here. I slip back into the bunk. No trouble at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi again. i'm sorry i took so long. things are starting to pile up on me. I personally really like this chapter because it's the first i guess you can call it serious chapter in this story^^ I hope you, meaning you A. Kingsleigh, feel the impact I tried to make Rocky feel. For once Fowler is awesome!^^ I own nothing. And if I did i would make Rocky and Ginger dance the tango.

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><p>Rooster Run 5<p>

Early next morning, with the help of someone rapping loudly at the door, I woke to a large crowd of chicks outside the door. Ginger stood at the front, her wings crossed and her eyes staring at me expectantly. I rub my face in an effort to rub the sleep away.

'D'ya know what time it is?' I groan. What are they doing so early in the morning?

'Sunrise.' She replied seriously. 'We woke up early so that you could teach us how to fly.' Oh God. Blackmailing me into doing this was bad enough but this? I opened my beak to complain, but then I remembered that while I'm here, they, more specifically Ginger, had the power to turn me in. I groan again before waving my good wing offhandedly at them.

'Alright. I'm getting up, just give me a moment to wash up.' I close the door and go to a small basin of water that was at the back of the hut. I turn to the bed and notice that Pops was already up and somewhere. Damn him. I bet he knew that this would happen and deliberately let me sleep so that everyone would bug me. Ugh...but what bugs me more is that that old bird bet me in waking up early. I better get my act together.

After I washed up, I addressed the crowd of chickens with a speech I made up while washing my face.

'So, you wanna fly? Well, it ain't gonna be easy. And it ain't gonna work overnight either.' Totally. 'You see, flying takes three things: hard work, perseverance and...' Opps. I forgot what the last one was... 'Hard work.' I finished.

'You said hard work twice.' I heard a voice say. Pops was back and he was standing just outside his hut. Oh yeah, time to get him back at him.

'That's because it takes twice as much work as perseverance.' I lick my finger and show it to the crowd in front of me. They laugh and it seems to tick Pops off.

'Codswallop!' He shouts. I don't know what they means, but if it means he's angry, than it's a good word. Grumbling, he goes into his hut and I turn back to the crowd.

'Now the most important thing is we have to work as a team.' Everyone nods. 'Which means...' What does it mean...oh well. 'You do everything I tell you.' Ginger seems a bit hesitant about nodding, but the rest does without complaint. Oh yeah, this is going to be a good few weeks here. I get up on the stand they prepared for me. 'Alright, let's rock and roll!' I begin with doing wing exercises. The circus made me do these so that when I am blasted out of the cannon, I was suppose to flap my wings like I was flying. For once, I'm thankful they made me do these. Everyone followed me without complaint. Although they followed me too well. When I winced from pain in my bad wing, they copied that as well. Kinda weird, but I'm not gonna complain. For the past week, I "trained" them to fly. "Training" them was hard work and I made them do things for me like bubble baths and messages every now and then. I need to get something out of this. 'Stop right there.' I said to the chicken giving me a message. 'Oh yeah, down. Yeah. Now make little circles. Faster, faster. Oh yes, perfect.' I love life. 'Oh that's the spot.' I sigh. Yeah, I could live like this: surround by chicks in a bubble bath, getting a cool breeze and a message by the most magical hands I have ever had work at my back. However, Ginger doesn't seem to see from my point of view and called all the chickens off.

'I thought you were going to teach us how to _fly._'

'That's what I'm doing.' I replied, but she scoffed.

'Isn't there usually some flapping involved?' she asked, waving her hands slightly. Well, there is. But it's just for show.

'Hey,' I say, crossing my legs. 'Do I tell you how to lay eggs? Relax! We're making progress.'

'Really? I can't help thinking we're going round in circles.' Oh no. Did she find out? Ginger waved her hands to the group I was training and I saw that they were all bent over and spinning around. I remembered what I told the chicken who was giving me a message. What did I tell you? They follow me too well.

'What the? Hey, cut it out! You're making me dizzy.' I turn to Ginger. 'I think they're ready to fly now.' This doesn't seem to quell Ginger, who stood staring, or glaring, at me with her wings on her hips.

'Good. Because they certainly can't walk anymore.' And they certainly can't. One glance behind her shoulder and I could see that they were all falling over and some at the back were being sick. Uh oh. Time to raise team morale. I stand up.

'Up and at 'em gals. Let's flap.' This seemed to get them excited for the rest of the afternoon. We tried all sorts of ways to try and make them at least airborne, although the results were fruitless and painful. I almost felt sorry for them and thought about telling them the truth, but then I remember the cannon and I keep quiet. Hey, I said almost.

Halfway through the day, I noticed two rats laughing at our failed attempts.

'Who are those two jerks?' I ask Ginger.

'Oh, they're Nick and Fetcher, the farmyard rats. They used to help us get the things we need to escape for a price. I used to pay them with seeds but then they started asking for eggs and we can't part with those, otherwise we end up in the chop.' So, they'll get you anything for a price, eh? Nice info. I stored that little tibit away as I winced at a chick flying over my head and slamming into a wall.

By the end of the day, everyone's spirit was lower than what it was this morning. Everyone was sore and tired. Not a good combination.

'Great work, ladies. Great work.' I say to chickens who staggered by me. 'The pain you're feeling is a good thing. It's good.' To make something good, make it seem good. 'Pain is your friend, ok? It's a positive thing. Just keep the faith there…what was your name?' So many chicks to remember. 'Agnes.' I say, remembering. 'Agnes. You'll get there.' I noticed a chick staggering behind me. I remember her name. 'Ducky, I think you flew four feet today.' I say, taking her hand. She smiles and it was an improvement until the rats ruined it.

'That's right four feet!' I heard them say. 'From the roof to the ground.' And they both burst out laughing. I could feel the irritation gnawing at me.

'Nothing to worry ladies. Great work.' I say in my best enthusiastic voice that I could muster, then under my breath. 'You cheese-eating little-' Before I could finish my insult, I felt a slight tremor. 'Whoa…' I say as I eye a water well, which had ripples on the surface. 'That doesn't sound good.' I laugh nervously. 'Ok, the ground's shaking. Are we worried?' I put my arm out to stop a passing chicken which I found out to be Ginger. A growling noise shattered the air and two headlights light up the growing darkness. The familiar cold feeling courses through my body as I gasp. I turn and grasp Ginger's shoulders.

'The circus! Quick, hide me. Hide me!' Ginger rolls her and scoffs as if she was annoyed, but grabs my wings.

'Come on.' She says and drags me over back to Pops' hut. We raced past Pops who was staring at himself in the mirror (I didn't know he was so vain). Ignoring Pops' demands on us getting out, Ginger stuffed me into his closet.

'Oh, give it a rest Pops.' I groan as the door slams shut. I hear Ginger's footsteps fade away as I stare at some random poster of some chick just visible in front of me in the darkness. A few minutes later, the door swings open, Pops glaring at me. I put my hands up. 'Alright. Alright. I'm out.' I step out of the closet and smooth my tail feathers. When I turn back around, Pops is still glaring at me.

'You can't fly can you?' He says. I instantly feel defensive.

'Hey, I so can.' I snap back.

'Then why don't you?'

'Um, hello?' I show my bandaged wing. Pops merely raises an eyebrow and pokes at it with his stick. I noticed that it wasn't as sore as it was before. I reacted half a second late. 'Hey! Watch it! Still sore.' I take a step back and give him my own glare. He doesn't flinch.

'Back in my day, I never saw a rooster fly. And I'm sure that's because they can't.' I open my beak to deny it and say that I can, but he ploughs on. 'You may think that you being in a farm full of chickens is a dream come true, but for them it's not. They are depending on you. They put their life in your hands and I mean that. They believe you can fly and they are counting on you to help them escape from their life here. To you this seems to be nothing but a game, but to them, this is a matter of life and death. If they don't get out of here, they are dead. Eventually every single one of them will die. So stop ruffling their feathers, getting their hopes up, make them waste their time on this nonsense and leave.' Now _that_ shook me a little. Just a little. I was so hooked into leisure and checking out the chicks that I nearly forgot why I was doing the exercise in the first place. I remembered what Ginger told on my first night here. _We lay eggs, day in and day out. And when we can't lay anymore…they kill us._ How did I reply again? _Hey, it's a cruel world dollface. Might as well get used to it. _That's right. It _is_ a cruel world. And as the saying goes: survival of the fittest. I swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in my throat and looked at Pops square in the eyes.

'I am taking all this very seriously.' His face clearly shows doubt, but I can't mess up my lie here. 'I am not ruffling their feathers or wasting their time. Maybe you are the one wasting time not joining us. So don't come crying to me when you are approaching your final moments.' With that, I stepped out of the hut. I heard some chatter coming from the hut next door. Good. I need some fun to brush off this shaky feeling. As I walk away, I could hear Pops mumbling to himself.

'Americans. Always thinking they're the best of the best when they are just a waste of time and air.' Oh, I'm gonna get you back for that Pops.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi! Some Random gal is back! Sorry for taking so long with this^^'' Life has been busy and the stupid computer went retarded.

This is the last chapter I had prewritten now. So Updates will now be even more slow than usual, partly because of my now busy life and also because I'm trying to add this impact for Rocky's character growth and I'm not happy with what I've done so i've been re writing over and over and it's slowly getting to what i want it to be.

By the way, I need some help. You know the part where they start over-feeding the chickens, and that whole time Rocky was hiding in a watercan. I have no diea what to make him do or think durng that time. A. Kingsleigh, please hlpe meT^T.

Aso, I have to let you know thatt h hols are drawing closer and i won't be able to post anything during the holidays. I hope you don't mind waiting 2 weeks until I come back^^''

Do not own anything here. if I did I'd make Rocky my house pet.

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><p>Rooster Run 6<p>

'And the pig says to the horse, "Hey fella! Why the long face?"' Everyone bursts out laughing at my joke. The feeling I had with Pops was gone. I took a swig out of the funnel cup I was given. 'Oh wait.' I tell everyone. I pull out one of my tail feathers and stuff it into the cup. 'Cocktail!' Every laughs again as I take another swig from the cup.

'Give over!' I hear the big red bird, whose name I now know is Bunty, say as she gives me a hard slap on the back. This causes me to spray my drink all over the crowd. I wiped my mouth, looked up, then gasped when I saw that the chick who took the brunt of my spray attack was Ginger. All the other chickens quickly went quiet. Ok, this was awkward.

'So…uh, anyway.' I stammered. Oblivious Babs took out a handkerchief and wiped away the spray from Ginger's face. When Ginger turned to look at her, Babs merely giggled. I really marvel her sometimes. 'Remember those flying tips tomorrow. They're very important.' I continued. 'And keep thinking those flighty thoughts.' The crowd disbanded and Ginger came towards me. When someone is angry at you, butter them up. 'They are swell chicks. They really are.' I say, standing up. 'Hey, look at what Babs made me.' I picked the woollen, blue and purple, beanie-like thing. 'A beak warmer.' I said, putting it on. 'Isn't that the cutest?' Ginger merely blinked as I took the beak warmer off. 'And that Bunty.' I added. 'She really packs a punch.' Ginger's didn't change, so I gave up and took the plunge. 'Is there a problem?'

'Have we flown over that fence?'

'Not quite.' I said, beginning to walk over to the door. I already had Pops doubting me about the flying thing, I don't need her too.

'Then there's a problem.' Ginger replied.

'Hey,' I called back taking the towel a chick was offering me. 'Good things come to people who wait dollface.'

'Ginger!' I heard her call as the door closed. I go round the hut and approach a basin of water with a mirror over it. I splash my face and check my hair. I saw Ginger come up behind me in the reflection. 'Ok, how long did it take you?' She asked.

'To do what?'

'To learn how to fly?' Well, 30 seconds to the max, 35 if you include flying out and getting a faceful of circus tent.

'Apples and oranges, babydoll.' I replied, turning to her. 'I'm gifted. They're not. You can't compare the two, ok?' I turn back to the mirror. 'The point is, these things take time.' I heard her make a noise of impatience and she went to my side.

'Which we are rapidly running out of,' she replied. 'And we haven't even lifted off the ground. Why?'

'Trust!' I heard someone with a familiar accent cry out behind me. Ginger and I turn around to see the white chicken, Mac I think, flourishing her notebook and babbling something incorrigible. But I think I got the first word. Trust. Now that is definitely a wrong fact. Trust never got anyone nowhere. I remember once I trusted a lion cub during my time in the circus. Hey, it was small, fluffy and seemingly defenceless so I tried to take him under my wing, no pun intended. I looked out for him and I thought he was looking out for me. But it turned out he was merely standing by me learning all my moves so that he can apply them to his act and leave me with the crickets.

'Sorry Rocky.' I remember him say when they took him onto the stage to face a crowd of screaming and cheering spectators. 'But in a life of showbiz, the only ones you can count on are me, myself and I.' Even if I was mad at him for a while, I found that real good advice. You can only count on yourself in this big world, showbiz or not. Others slow you down. I mean, look at Ginger and the other chickens. They could all bust out of here if they wanted. But they believe they have to bust out at the same time and look how they ended up. They are still stuck in this farm and slowly approaching their deaths at what they call the chop.

'I swear she ain't using real words.' I say after she finishes her rant. Ginger makes an impatient sound.

'She said we need more thrust.' She says.

'Oh, thrust.' Was all I could say. I wonder how she understands what this chick says. Oh well, sail with it. 'Well, of course you need thrust. Thrust and flying are like...' I cross my fingers. 'Like this.' I point to each finger. 'There's flying and there's thrust.'

'Would you excuse us?' Ginger asks Mac. Then she grabs my bandaged wing and drags me around the building(oh right, my wing is suppose to hurt).

'Hey hey hey, the wing. The wing.' I complain, holding my wing protectively. Then she corners me and starts poking my chest.

'If we don't see some results by tomorrow, the deal is off and you're on your own.' She stops poking me. 'No more hiding, the farmers will find you and it's back to the circus, flyboy.'

'You know, you're the first chick I ever meet with her shell still on?' I couldn't help but say. She purses her beak. She really needs to get a sense of humour. I take my towel off my shoulders and put it on hers. 'Sleep tight angel face. The Rock's on the case.' I click my tongue flirtatiously and begin to turn around the corner.

'Ginger!' I hear her say and she flings the towel at me and hits my face. I let out a sigh. She's really gotta unruffled her feathers. Still, that threat of hers unnerved me. If there is one thing I learned in my time here, it's that Ginger is serious about everything she says. I sit in a dark corner where the dogs and the chicks won't find me and begin to think. I've gotta make a show tomorrow that will convince her that we are making even the _tiniest_ of progress. But the problem was how. I couldn't just go and bring a cannon in here. What am I going to do? Suddenly, I hear a rustling noise. I stare out and I see the two rats scampering around the edge of the farm, collecting whatever they collect. Staring at them, I figured their rule is whatever isn't tied down, take it. I watched as they skilfully sneak around the dogs, asleep or awake. That's when it hit me! I run around the edge of the fence until I found this little hole. I remember asking about it and the flock told me it was a result of another failed escape. It hadn't been filled up yet. I crawled through it and hid in the shadows, close to the rats. 'Psst!' I called, trying not to wake a dog that was also close to me. The rats didn't stop what they were doing, so I tried again. This time, the tall skinny rat in the green suit stopped.

'Hey Nick, did you hear something?' He asked, looking around

'Nope.' Said the chubbier one with the yellow suit and zip tie whom I now know is Nick, barely glancing up. I tried again, a little more louder. The dog nearby stirred, but didn't wake.

'Now I know someone is calling us, Nick.' The tall skinny rat, Fetcher says, gently dumping his load and walking towards my corner. Nick sighs and follows. They turn around the corner, spot me, look momentarily surprised, then they smile.

'Well,' says Nick in a tone I don't like. 'If it isn't the infamous flying rooster.' I'm gonna let that one slide. Fetcher laughs.

'The popular teacher that is teaching the chickens to fly.' Fetcher says. The two rats look at each other and then say, 'DOWNWARDS!' Then they burst out in a fit of giggles. I'll let that one go too. I mean, I have no right to say anything, I guess. I wait for them to finish laughing, then I clear my throat and begin to talk.

'I heard from Ginger that you have a talent in supplying...supplies.' I state.

'You heard right.' Nick says. 'But we don't do stuff for free.' Nick turns to Fetcher and gives him a look. Fetcher digs into a metal suitcase he was carrying and took out an egg cup. Yep, they only work for eggs.

'Alright, how about I cut you a deal?' I say.

'We're listening.' The two rats say, leaning in eagerly. I had a theory. These two rats seem like they never left this farm. Meaning that all they ever saw was chickens. This was the first time they saw a rooster. Meaning...

'If you work for me for a while, then I'll...' I lean in and whisper. 'I'll give you every egg that I lay this month.' They reel back in shock. If I'm correct, they won't know that roosters _don't_ lay eggs. And from the grins that are forming on their faces, I was pleased to see that I was right.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey! I. Have. Returned! I'm so sorry for taking so long. Honestly, I almost gave up on this when I lost motivation, but then I had this beautiful Chicken Run dream that made my inspiration shoot to the roof! For some reason, Ginger was caught in a wooden cage for something, and Rocky snuck over to help her. Ginger tried to act all tough and leader-ly and they both ended up in a small argument. But then they fell silent and Ginger said,' …I'm sorry. It's just…I'm scared. I'm really scared Rocky.' And then Rocky stuck his wing through the wooden bars and held her fingers. It was such a sweet dream! I still remember how warm Rocky's fingers were~. I might fanfiction-nate that^^. Anyway, thanks to that dream, this chapter is up. And thank you A. Kingsleigh for helping me find an idea for the next chapter. And thank you that other author(s) who faved this story and commented. Much love to both of you. Onto it then! Sorry for the ending. I failed near the end.

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><p>Rooster Run 7<p>

I got up at the same time as Pops today. I gave him the "oh-no-not-this-time" look. He merely scowled and went out to do his round of crowing. When he does, I thought he sounded a bit off and low. But it's easy for me to say that when I've never crowed before. I never learned.

As I had hoped, the rats were standing by the hole we agreed to meet at, a bag lying next to them. The rats turned and gave a smile.

'Buon giorno, signore.' Said Nick.

'That's Italian.' Fetcher added. Then they began to ramble off about their daring quest to get what I asked them last night. I said encouraging words that prompt them into a good mood, being the smooth guy that I am.

'We slipped into the farmer's room, all quiet-like.' Started Nick.

'Like a fish.' Added Fetcher. This seemed to throw Nick off his groove, as he shook his head at his partner and gave him the usual "are-you-an-idiot?" look. Nick decided to not tell me the rest and handed me the bag.

'Anyway, guv, here it is. El merchandiso.'

'That's Spanish.' I gotta admire their range of languages a little. I peeked into the bag to make sure they got everything. They did. For totally irritating, untrustworthy farm rats, they sure get their job done well. I look up to say thank you when a voice cuts the air and even causes the rats to flinch.

'What are these two crooks doing here?' Ginger was walking up the path and looking at the rats darkly.

'So! You know each other.' I said, feigning ignorance to prevent anything ugly coming up.

'She don't think we're valuable.' Fetcher said, crossing his arms. I walked over to Ginger's side.

'Guys, you are without a doubt the sneakiest, most light-fingered thieving parasites I've ever met.' I said. This seems to put them in a good mood again, as they "modestly" shook my "compliment" off.

'So, uh, how about them eggs?' Nick then asks. Ginger gasps loudly and then glares at me accusingly.

'Eggs? Don't tell me you promised them-'

'Yep!' I cut in before she could ruin my lie. 'I promised them every egg I lay this month.' I wink at her. She gets the picture but instead of looking relieved that I wasn't really going to give any eggs, she now looks like she disbelieved.

'And, uh, when can we expect the first instalment?' Nick asks eagerly. I make a show of rubbing my stomach.

'I'm brewing one up as we speak. I'll keep you posted.' The two rats share a glance and then step backwards.

'Pleasure doing business with you, sir. Sucker.' I heard them mumble the last part and I mentally smirk. If only they knew who the real suckers were. I felt a disapproving stare poking at the side of my head. I turn to see Ginger shaking her head at me.

'What?' I ask, lifting my wing up.

'You lied to them.' She said softly.

'I didn't lie, dollface.' I answered back. 'I just…' What was that word again? '…omitted certain truths.' Which was true. If I had told them that I could lay eggs, then that would be lying. They just assumed I could lay eggs. 'I'll give them exactly what I promised.'

'Which is nothing?'

'Which is what I'll give them.' Which was technically the same thing, but this puts me in a good light. Some-what.

'And what will you give us?' I pull a belt from out of the bag and stretch it in front of her.

'Thrust.' I let go of the belt, making a loud snapping noise. Ginger blinked. 'Go wake the others while I set up.' I turn back and take out the two nails the rats had also got. I still felt a presence behind me. I turn to see Ginger still staring at me. 'What? Aren't you going to get the others?'

'Look Mr Rhodes. I appreciate you trying to help us, but I'd rather you'd help us through honest methods instead of lying.' Ugh, is she ever gonna let this drop?

'Look dollface,' I begin, straightening up. 'My "lying",' I said, making a motion with my fingers as I said the word. 'Whatever it is you prefer to call it, is gonna help you bust out of this place. You should be grateful I did it. So why are your feathers so ruffled?'

'So you make people feel grateful to you and like you through lying?' I blinked.

'People like me when I am honest too!' I retorted a second late, but for some reason the words sound lame to my ears. Now that I thought about it, I could not really recall anyone back in my circus days being my friend. Sure, we had the occasional animal that we could talk to when things were stressed but we were more accomplices to each other rather than friends. Buddies of survival. Even between what I can only describe as "trusted buddies" we were always stabbing each other in the back, using each other as stepping stones to become the best act in the circus. I realise that even now I am using these chickens' situation for my own agendas. I again felt that weird uncomfortable feeling in my throat, like a lump was stuck there, along with a heavy feeling in my stomach.

I realise a second later after I felt it that the feeling was guilt. I had found myself looking down at the ground almost shamefully. I looked back up to see Ginger giving me a look that came to close to pity. I didn't like it. I didn't want her looking at me like that.

'Well, I guess what's done is done.' She said in a resigned disappointed voice that did nothing to help my guilt. 'Fine. I'll go and wake the others.' She turned and walked off without a backwards glance, knocking on doors and peeking in to wake everyone. Rocky followed her with his gaze for a bit, watching her face she called the chickens to wake up, stopping a bit to talk to Mac. They began to discuss things, peering into her notebooks. The look of absolute trust and faith on their faces gave me this funny ache in my chest so I had to turn away, staring at the nail I held in my wings. But this strange feeling wasn't like the one I had with Pops. This one made him feel more sad and…envious. Yes, I was envious of them. I clearly could see how those two were the best of friend, while being honest and open with each other. I've never seen anything like that before. Animals in the circus always had to lie and act, using sugar coated deadly words to manipulate others. Honesty never existed on stage.

I look up again to see two sleepy looking chicks smile at me. I smile back but then this accusatory voice at the back of my head scolded at me. _Liar_, and it made me turn away. I packed up the bag and stood up and walked away under the pretence of going to set up. I didn't want them to look at me like that when they didn't know the truth. I growled at myself as I hammered the nails into the ground a little harder than necessary.

'Now, you decide to grow a conscience, Rocky?' I said to myself.


	8. Chapter 8

Ok! Half way to the story we finally are! I started to watch Chicken Run again. I love the special feature on the making of Chicken Run. It almost makes me want to do Claymation. ^^ We are almost to the dance part? Everyone looking forward to it? It's my favourite part in the whole thing. That, and it's the time when the GingerXRocky began to form^^. Anyway! Enough of pointless rambling. Go ahead and read.

P.S: Thank you Catfreaklol for your review. I saw you wrote a Chicken Run story because you were inspired^^ I feel very warmed that it was me that inspired you! I hope you do well in your story! I'd review but the computer won't open the review box=3=

Warning of mentions of animal abuse.

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><p>Rooster Run 8<p>

I made what I could best call a giant slingshot. I nailed two nails into the ground and attached the stretchy belt to it. I then nailed another nail behind it where I attached a rope to it, connecting it to a cart. I felt rather proud of my work when I finished. This was the most work I've done since cleaning all the soot and ash off my feathers.

Bunty had kindly offered to be the first one to try out what I called a "thrust exercise". Ginger stood next to me giving me expectant glares which made me realise this could be my last chance. It didn't help my case either that those stupid rats were back again, setting up an egg carton stand on the side, laughing as the cart was pulled back.

"The tension's killing me!" Fletcher called out.

"It's gonna kill her!" Nick added and they both fell into fits of laughter. They were like this all throughout the day after they gave me their stuff. It even eventually made Bunty nervous. So I gave her the helmet as a precaution.

"Release!" I yelled and Bunty shot past us in a blur. She zoomed past the rats and began to flap her wings as the witnessing chickens, Ginger included, began to cheer her on. For a moment, I stared at it all and I was suddenly reminded on my circus, the way the crowds would cheer whenever I was shot out of the cannon. Yet somehow, as I watched them cheer louder and even wave their wings around a bit when the cart reached the ropes limit and flung Bunty across the farm, there was something different about them compared to my audience. At first I couldn't put my finger, or feather in my case, on it.

Suddenly, there was a loud grunt from the other side of the farm which prompted a groan from the chicken audience. I snapped my head around and realised I made a miscalculation in my little sling shot device. Bunty was flung across the farm in the illusion she was actually flying, just like my cannon. However, Bunty couldn't turn while in the air, so she shot straight across the farm, and smacked into the fence. She rebounded and flew into the air, losing her helmet. The rats jeered and laughed and I would've loved to go over and smack them myself, just as Bunty landed bullseye on top of them. Their laughing quickly turned into terrified screaming as there was collision with a satisfying thud, though of course, not for Bunty's sake. The egg carton stand they were sitting on rolled across the farm from the impact towards us and the crowd. Don't worry, we promptly side stepped which, unfortunately for them, meant they crashed into the chicken sheds behind us. Ginger turned to me to gaze at me with an unamused look, and we both cringed as the group crashed into another shed.

I knew that look. It didn't mean good news. I gulped.

"Opps." I said lightly with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. Before I could mention that at least the rats finally got what they deserved, a sudden shrill noise pierced the air.

A bell.

I have to say the reaction was very remarkable. Every chicken, including stiff-feathered Ginger, tensed. Suddenly they are started shrieking and running around. Babs came over to Ginger and started fretting about something, but I didn't care enough at the time to listen. I just stared at all the chickens as they began to assemble into a row like soldiers, looking anxiously and fearfully at the gate fence. Seeing how much they changed from the cheering crowd to a terrified flock, I realised just how serious this was.

"Hide me." I whispered to Ginger. However, she either didn't hear me over the desperate squawking or ignored me. She looked worriedly at Babs who was clutching her knitting needles so tightly they rattled and she even dropped a few stitches. Babs never dropped stitches. She goes ballistic when she drops stitches and right now Babs was still trembling for her own dear life. This is definitely not good news, as I glance at the farmers coming out of their house.

"Hide me!" I say more desperately. Ginger, however, turned sharply at me and gave me an impatient glare.

"Hide yourself!" She snapped before scurrying off to go in line. I stared after her before shrugging it off. Fine, I was going to bolt anyway. I took a quick scan of the farm and spotted a large metal watering leaning against a hut. Disregarding that it could possibly mess up my beautiful tail, I scampered over and jumped inside, tucking up into a ball again. It stank and the metal was slightly rusted, and it was nowhere near comfortable as I already was starting to feel cramps. Suddenly, as I sat squatted in the watering can, I suddenly felt something. It came intense and burning hot before I could stop it.

I felt angry.

What the hell was I doing here? I escaped the circus looking for freedom, to finally live a life for myself, to do things for myself, and no longer for the benefit and satisfaction of others. How many years have I been stuffed and shot out of a cannon to satisfy strangers so they could pay my stupid masters? Don't I deserve a little slack? Maybe even retirement, I did my part. I'm done satisfying an audience, people. Now I'm here after escaping trying to satisfy these stupid chicks that don't even know that chickens can't fly! I thought of them all cheering before and I felt disgusted. How dare they force me to stay here after all I've been through! I don't owe them anything! They were no different than every audience that cheered at my misery!

"_STOP IT!_" I suddenly heard a shriek which sounded distinctly like Ginger. I blinked and paused listening for what happened next. Aside from further faint murmuring which sounded like Ginger talking to them, there was no other noise.

Odd. The whole flock is outside. What's going on?

I peeked up over the rim of the can. The farmers were inside now and the whole flock was over an overturned trough of feed. Ok, they were getting fed. So? Why were the flock staring, fixated, at Ginger who was standing on the trough looking like she was trying to convince them not to eat? Can they not eat now?

Well, the last two sentences I heard her say pretty much summed it up.

"Don't you see what's happening?" She said, addressing her audience. "They're fattening us up." She turned, her dark green eyes sweeping every chicken with an intense, near ominous look. "They're going to kill us all!"

Whoa, she had as much tact as an executioner wielding an axe, as all the chicks, if possible, paled and gulped down their current mouthful of feed heavily. I climbed out of the watering can and approached the flock with my wings up in a comforting gesture.

"Whoa! Heavy alert!" I laughed, trying to lighten the mood as all the chicks turned to stare at me. I tried my best to ignore to ignore their haunted stares. I had enough of that from the old timers in the circus. I grabbed Ginger and pulled her off the trough. "She didn't mean it, girls." I called back over my shoulder. I gave a hasty grin to the chicken closest to me. "Keep eating. Save some for me." I ignored Gingers protests and slaps, which are actually quite painful. She is one tough chick.

I finally steered her around the corner and into an empty hut where she promptly breaks out of my grip.

"Let go of me!" She snaps. Normally I'd pull a cool wisecrack here, but I was still slightly angry from inside the watering can.

"Listen!" I snapped back, exasperated with her behaviour. "I've seen some hard-boiled eggs in my day but I'd say you're about… twenty minutes!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She replied coolly. My exasperation flared more.

"It means you gotta lighten up!" I replied. Yeah Ginger. Heard of it? "You see," I started, pacing around her. "Over in America, we have this rule. If you want to motivate someone," I turn to her sharply, hoping to maybe make her understand. "Don't. Mention. Death!" However, Ginger merely scoffed at the idea.

"Funny." She said, as she suddenly fixed an accusatory glare at me. "Over here, the rule is 'Always tell the truth'." I instantly knew what she was referring to, but I didn't quite see how it would help her argument. I gave a small white lie and it got me what I wanted to attempt to help her. She told the truth and most of the chicks look paralysed with dread, like a panther that just realised the jumping ring was on fire at the last minute.

"Oh yeah, that's been working like a real charm, hasn't it?" I replied back with the same accusatory tone. I decided to give her a bit of charity, since she's been so 'kindly' helping my own situation. "Let me give you some advice." I said, taking a step toward her so we were only a small distance apart. "You want them to perform? Tell them what you want to hear." Like they told all us animals every single show. _You'll be fine. You're in good hands._ Even when we saw the dangers and knew what was coming, we'd follow like strays. In a way, that's what we were.

However, Ginger didn't take to my imparted wisdom as she merely gave me a scalding scowl.

"You mean lie!" She spat, looking like she wanted to peck my eyes out, before storming out of the hut. I gave an exasperated, irritated sigh as I begrudgingly followed her. _Here we go again_.

"You know what the problem is?" I called to her as she began to walk away. "You're-" I searched for the perfect word to describe her, but, much to my subconscious disapproval, I couldn't do anything but mimic what my ringmaster said. "Difficult!"

"_You don't need to tell them what's really happening." The ringmaster said to the other workers. "They are just dumb animals, no need to make them or the job any more difficult."_

"Why because I'm honest?" She retorted. I cringed as the stab hit close to home. She let out a grunt as she presses her fingers briefly to her temple, as if staving off a headache caused by me. Tch, should be the other way round. "I care about what happens to them! Something I don't expect a _LONE FREE RANGER_ to know anything about!"

_The whip lashed again and again close to the feet of a newcomer dog that joined the circus. The dog whined, terrified, and backed again with its tail between its legs, but the ringmaster was relentless as he tried to urge it to jump through the hoop. One lash made contract with its paw and it yelped loudly, but the man showed no sympathy, shouting profanities at the poor creature._

_I spared the dog but a brief glance. But he huffed and turned back to his miniscule dinner._

_Stupid animal, Rocky thought. He should know better than to not listen._

I forced down the burning shame that rose in my throat. I paused for the split second, trying to find anything to counter with, to defend myself, but I found that I had none. So, feeling cornered, all I could do was lash.

"Well, if that's the way you show it, I hope you never care about me!" I shouted. Ginger wasted no time shouting back with such assurance I almost felt hurt.

"I can assure you, I never will!" Well!

"Good!"

"Fine!"

I spun on my heels and stormed off, but the anger wasn't as strong, no matter how much I wanted to hold onto it. I want to stay angry. I don't want to stay here. I want to stay angry as so when I leave, I'll feel glad about it. I want to get away from the selfish audience of chickens, who only knew how to be happy when benefiting from someone else's efforts, with Ginger as their ring leader. I clung to that belief, I clung tightly as I approached the edge of the hut and went to turn the corner.

I saw, and I gasped.

The group of chickens have depleted immensely, so many had retreated to their huts, the shut doors giving off a really sad vibe. Some lingered in their doorways, leaning against the frames, unable to drag themselves inside, as if their nests weren't their refuge anymore. If I had to describe 'at death's door', this is probably what I'm looking at. The Scottish chicken, Mac, leaned against a pole and was playing on a harmonica she had pulled out, most likely some Scottish sound that sounded sad and woeful. Even steel-feathered Bunty sat on the overturned trough, gazing at the chicken feed in her wing before letting it slip off her palm, the haunted eyes that everyone else had gazing at the grains join the large pile without a spark of care, clearly not hungry anymore.

Then there was Babs, sweet cheerful Babs, who was usually oblivious to the world. She was also sitting on the pile, knitting as she always is. But her needles didn't move with their usual fervour, the clicking almost sounding like a ticking clock. She stopped as she finished her stitch and held up her new creation, and she slumped as she viewed her knitted noose. The needles slipped out of her wing and clattered near inaudible on the pile of chicken feed.

It hurt to watch. It was even more painful than a booing audience.

It was then that I realised why they were so different. They were not an audience. In fact, I now see they were far from it.

They were a flock, a flock of chickens searching for hope. I wasn't a source of entertainment. I was the source of their hope.

They were cheering because they thought they could finally achieve a better life, a life without counting down the days. Without forced labour, a life where they could finally take control of their own lives, and not by someone who takes care of them for their own benefit.

I finally see how, that they wanted freedom, the same way I wanted it.

They weren't the selfish ones, I was. Ginger, for once I was willing to admit, was right. I never cared.

I sighed heavily, the shame rising again in my throat, but I pushed it down. There was no more time for shame anymore. I gripped the corner of the hut, glancing again at the woeful flock and nodded my head in resolve before turning away.

Just because Ginger was right, doesn't mean I can't make her wrong. As I approached the rats, I suddenly felt like that was my resolve. I would prove her wrong. That I could be more than a Lone Free Ranger.

For once, I had enough of haunted eyes, and enough of myself. I was going to change, and make Ginger say she was wrong.

* * *

><p>…I once saw a monkey circus in a foreign place. The monkeys did amazing things; they rode tricycles, balanced on balls and I think I vaguely remember them making a pyramid. But amongst all that, I remember clearly the ring master, constantly whipping with his whip for them to go faster, and dragging them around with a cane like they were objects. As amazing as the tricks they did, I couldn't enjoy it as well as I could. So I walked away, only feeling regret that I couldn't do anything for them.<p>

I'm sorry if the scene of animal abuse was disturbing to some people. I definitely know it was disturbing to me. Always say no to it and never support it. No life should ever have to life like that.

…But I still hate insects and will kill them on sight. Sorry.

I'm also so sorry for taking so long! I promise I'll strive to get better. But I hope to get faster as this scene was actually the hardest to type as barely anything goes on that allows me to add some character development and I didn't want to just describe what happened in the scene when you can just go off and watcht eh movie yourselves. I hope this chapter was as deep as the other chapters before it. I look forward to typing the dance scene.

PS: Thank you all who reviewed and that one person who personally messaged me. You all are loved!^^


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